


Gestures - Gift Artworks

by Cafelatte100



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Memories, Platonic Soulmates, Shooting Stars, Star Tree, Stars, Symbology, metaphorical wings, nebulae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cafelatte100/pseuds/Cafelatte100
Summary: Former star-maker Crowley responds to an Angel who once sheltered him under his wing in Eden. (story version)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Gestures - Gift Artworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raphaela_Crowley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raphaela_Crowley/gifts).



> Below is a short excerpt from Raphaela_Crowley's [ "Gestures"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099639).
> 
> Thank you Raphaela for writing this gorgeous story for me! I could not have been happier with what you did with my prompt. 
> 
> The digital artworks were completed by Gemennair. You can find more of Gemennair's astonishingly ethereal art at: [Bio & Contact](http://www.gemennair.contactin.bio/)
> 
> Thank you Gemennair for your gorgeous artworks.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," says Aziraphale, eyes clinched shut, "but I really think making me fly around in the middle of the universe with my eyes closed is rather reckless behaviour, even for a demon."

"You can open them in a moment." Hands grip Aziraphale's shoulders and turn him so that he's facing the right way. He wobbles in the air, slightly disoriented, like a child who's just been spun around before Pin The Tail on The Donkey, but Crawly steadies him. "Right. Now, take two steps forward, straight ahead. Open."

Aziraphale opens his eyes, blinking rapidly, and finds himself dazzled.

He's standing in the middle of a splendid nebula, all blue and purple and white lights dancing around him in a perfect, intricate ballet.

Made up of a cluster of stars, right in the middle, is a stellar tree, blue-black trunk like mist rising above a pond and branches sprouting dusty golden leaves that shine and shimmer.

An involuntary "Ooh," escapes Aziraphale before he can properly think about what he's seeing. He clears his throat. "Er. We are standing in front of a tree in the sky."

"Yes," agrees Crawly, a strangely modest, even hopeful, look on his face as he takes a step forward.

Under the demon's feet, the air and stars ripple and spread in ever-widening rings; it nearly looks as if he is walking on water.

"Why," asks the angel, "pray tell, is there a tree in the sky?"

"Because I put it there – made it."

Aziraphale is caught between wanting to cheerfully praise him for making something so beautiful, and – oddly enough – almost wanting to cry, because he's certain the demon is mocking him.

"That's cruel," he murmurs, cheeks flaming, "even for one of your lot."

Crawly doesn't understand. "Eh?"

"A tree," he says, shaking his head. "Because I didn't guard Eden well enough to prevent you from that whole eating the fruit business. I didn't think you'd make fun of me – not after..." Not after he'd tried to show the demon some kindness – after he'd spread his wing out over him, sheltering him so he wouldn't get wet during the first thunderstorm. "This was a lot of effort for a joke, you know." You idiot.

He could have just done what the archangels did when they were displeased with him. Namely make underhanded comments whenever he was in earshot.

But no.

Had to go and make a whole tree out of stars.

Leave it to a demon to go the extra mile for a mean-spirited laugh.

"But it's my fault," Aziraphale adds quietly. "I knew better than to go with you."

"Wot?" cries Crawly, the pitch of his voice rising. "No! The tree's not a joke – it's meant to..." He waves his hand in front of it, a little pathetically. "Be like a gesture. Branches are like..." He stammered. "Well, you know your wings?"

"Yes, I'm quite familiar with my own feathery appendages, thank you. What about my wings?"

"Well, it's supposed to be like metaphorical feathers, sheltering..." The demon is floundering. "Oh, for the love of–" He flails both his arms dramatically at it. "What I'm trying to say is, well... It's a tree." He moans. "Damn big tree."

"Ah." Aziraphale relaxes, folding his arms across his chest and taking a step closer to Crawly, a teasing smile spreading across his face. "Are you saying you were trying to do something nice for me?"

Crawly bristles. "Don't push it," he says through his teeth. "But, yes, I'm trying to say thank you."

Aziraphale touches his shoulder and gives it a kind squeeze. "You're welcome."

"You're not going to go around telling people I made you a big tree in the stars, are you?" Crawly looks as if he might be sick. "Because a demon can..."

"...get into a lot of trouble doing something nice for an angel?" Aziraphale finishes for him.

"Right."

"If anyone asks, you could always tell them it's to commemorate what happened in Eden," Aziraphale suggests. "Wouldn't even be a lie, really."

"Good point."

"It really is remarkable." Aziraphale gazes up into the branches, golden light radiating down on his beaming face.

A light meteor shower begins, soon to grow stronger, tiny blue stones raining down and swirling around the very core of the nebula.

And under the beautiful starry tree, the demon Crawly shelters his angelic companion.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading this short excerpt, please check out the full version of the incredibly beautiful and elegant story by Raphaela_Crowley. 
> 
> [ "Gestures"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099639) by Raphaela_Crowley


End file.
